


Dreaming Spires

by greerwatson



Category: Forever Knight
Genre: Backstory, Canon Related, F/M, Oxford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-30
Updated: 2010-05-30
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:19:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6000508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerwatson/pseuds/greerwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen Ruskin-Slater first met Nick Knight when she was a student at Oxford.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming Spires

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as a thank-you to Brightknightie for organizing FK Fic Fest, and originally posted to LiveJournal. It was written to her prompt:
>
>> Nick and Helen Ruskin-Slater from "Faithful Followers". So often, we come in at the tragic end of Nick's friendships. I would love to read an incident from the beginning or middle of one of them. (It could be a flashback inside another scenario, or it could be the whole piece.)
>>
>>> I had always wished a proper education in my father’s field, even though my sex precluded a full degree.  Our family tradition led me to study at Oxford; but it was not at the University that I first met Mr Knight.  Rather, it was in the Egyptian Room of the British Museum.  We did not speak, of course; but I could not help but notice the way he lingered over the inscriptions.  Most casual visitors are drawn to the obvious:  he seemed … perhaps a student, or at least an _aficionado_.

We next met at a lecture given by Professor Grenfell on Egyptian papyri.  My attendance was expected:  Mr Knight’s was not.  He somehow obtained permission, nevertheless, though he was not at any of the colleges.  (Before we became better acquainted, I suspected a considerable donation had eased his path into university life.)  I noted his presence at the lecture, and remembered him from the Museum.  He was a memorable man.  Professor Griffith introduced me to him as one of his most promising pupils, which was unexpected and gratifying.  (Later, when I returned to my rooms, I feared it might have been no more than a tribute to my late father; but—no. I think not.  Of some in the University I might believe it; but Professor Griffith was as purely scientific in his focus as any man I have met in these halls of learning, and had no regard for the sex of his pupils provided their abilities met his standards, which were always exacting.)

My third encounter with Mr Knight came at one of Professor Griffith’s tea parties, held monthly for all his pupils and, occasionally, a junior fellow in need of a little academic polish.  From the conversation, it was clear that Mr Knight had gained his _entrée_ legitimately:  his knowledge of the field of archæology was considerable, to put it mildly, though his principal area of expertise was the ruins of Central America.  We chatted about hieroglyphs, and the chance of, some day, discovering a Rosetta Stone to the glyphs of the Mayan civilization.

After that, I seemed to encounter Mr Knight at every turn.  That winter was, I must admit, made delightful not only by my progress in my studies but also by scones and cakes at the better of the local tea shops and, later, dinner at the City’s best restaurants—far beyond my means, and further evidence of Mr Knight’s comfortable situation.  The thought did cross my mind, once or twice, that we might, one day, work in tandem on the ancient sites of Egypt (or of Mexico, if he should prefer).

Alas, it was not to be.  As the days grew longer and the gardens brightened with the early flowers of spring, Mr Knight intimated his intention shortly to make a departure for the New World.  I had been offered, upon the successful completion of my studies, the opportunity to join a dig south of Memphis.  He congratulated me on my good fortune.

I have not seen him since.  The occasional letter makes it clear that, as I advance in my career, he keeps himself aware of my progress; but, unfortunately, I lack a forwarding address, and cannot reciprocate the correspondence.  Yet, I must admit, I still have lingering hopes that, one day, he may turn up in Cairo with an invitation to engage in mutual study of some new discovery.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Bernard Pyne Grenfell was a Professor of Papyrology, and Francis Llewellyn Griffith a Professor of Egyptology at Oxford University in the early twentieth century.
> 
> 2\. It was only in 1920 that women were granted the right to take degrees at Oxford University.


End file.
